Painful Bliss
by loveFaith
Summary: Sirius and Remus start to realize just how painful there silence between each other is. Takes place after the snape incident. RS
1. The Beginning of My Ending

Romance/Angst

Rating: pg-13 will be going up

Title: Painful Bliss haven't really decided yet. But I like how that sounds

Summary: "Why is that when I'm near you, I can't breathe? Why is it that when I wake up in the morning, and you're not by my side, I don't feel like living?"

Sirius Black is struggling to come to grips with his past, and when feelings for Remus come to a breaking point, will he find himself on the lonely road of celibacy or, in the most unlikely events, find a reason that he's worth being loved? Mild AU Rating will be going up. Note: This mainly is from Sirius' perspective, mostly because this story's about him dealing with a broken and abusive family. Remus will come in occasionally, and he's also dealing with a lot of crap at home, in a different form. Better stop now or there won't be any point in reading the story…

POV: Sirius

_Dawn._

The only time in this wretched house hold that I find worthy my presence.

To see the early light of day, seeping into the night sky; like love seeping into the crevices of my broken mind and seemingly incomplete soul…

The empty feeling that for so long has occupied my mind, disappearing for those rare seconds when the first light of a new day caresses the sky with soft gentle brush strokes…

The way each petal of every flower glistens, honoring the sun goddess.

Or the way the dew on every blade of glass rolls gently away, like tears being dried by a loving hand. The way the moist earth yields into the sure footsteps that silently press into the caressing earth. The way the breeze tickles my ear, like the soft laugh of a lover…or the way that breeze can become a wind, seducing with its firm yet gentle whispers…

…I curse myself the most when I delve into the impossible, imagining that his soft-skinned fingers are playing gently against my cheek, loving…caring…

Is this love? I wonder idly, pondering the way my mind instantly withdraws from the very thought. I'm afraid to even say his name…afraid that it will make it that much more of a reality. But it doesn't matter how many times I think I'm over it…or how many times I look at myself in the mirror and say out loud, 'He's not worth it.'

Because he is…it is I who is unworthy. I, who feels ashamed to be in his very presence, to be graced with small smiles, those he reserves for James, Peter and myself. The smallest quirk of those ever so fine lips, that tells us more then any amount of words ever could. It was 'us,' who was the cause of those graceful smiles, though sometimes, in my most wistful moments, I imagined I was the sole reason. How I long to be…

Within the next few moments, my thoughts will cease…I will become imprisoned by my own barriers…to defend myself against from everyone around me…

All in desperation to preserve part of the person I know I really am. Something I can save for _him. _Something that hasn't been tainted, by the madness that is the very essence of the Black title; something clean, and pure, as he is.

What of today? Will they ignore, seeing me as nothing but the worthless being they so often inform me that I am?

Or is today meant for silence, what I've come to love best? Only in the silence, can I lose myself within my other life. Of James, the ever so longed for Remus, and even, yes little Peter. My dear friends…like no other, they have offered me hope through these hard times…I can still remember the first prank we ever played all those years ago…

Early morning, with everyone present, James Potter snuck over to the Slytherin table undetected, slipping dungbombs under the feet of some unsuspecting victims. Never will I forget that moment! I've never seen such a site in my life, though mainly because they kept an eye on us after that... And even though poor James was caught, with the ends of his hair singed, every one in Gryffinder congratulated him on such a welcoming prank to the Slytherins for a new year.

It had been less then a week before we had become fast friends, completely in love with the prospect at having someone to pull pranks with.

That's when I first noticed him.

Was he supposed to sit silently in the back, his eyes down; hands folded in his lap like a scolded child?

Was he trying to look as though he were a broken doll?

Were his eyes supposed to mesmerize me the way that they did? Was I supposed to feel the air in my lungs go stale as eyes of liquid gold, burning with an unknown passion seemingly caressed mine?

Was I supposed to walk up to him that day, sit down next to him, are eyes locked on each other as though we were each other's missing pieces.

Or was it fate? Fate who I had always declared as a fool's belief suddenly seemed like a truth amongst lies. Was I supposed to sit next to this beautiful tawny haired boy through the most boring class, though I faintly recall telling James it was my favorite?

That was before this though. Before I realized that the longer that I sat there starring in awe of the boy, the more I realized that I belonged with him.

It's not right that I long to touch him, with soft gentle caresses. Sharing the affectionate gestures only seen between two who are so very much in love. Oh, how I've suffered through the realization that all my feelings mean nothing. They are as important to him as they are to the pathetic pranks James and I pull.

Yes, I know he thinks lowly of us, but sometimes you just can't resist. They say temptation is the strongest emotion, and the only way to rid yourself of it is to yield to it. I will never yield to this feeling. Never. I, of all beings, do not deserve the love of such a pure and perfect person. It is evil to even think…oh sweet love; I cherish your name in only the dark recesses of my heart. And there you shall forever stay, tucked away as the selfishly guarded possession.

The only pure thing to remain untainted by my own misfortunes.

---

Review!!!


	2. Lost In You

_**YES, THIS IS SLASH! R/S **_

**Author's Note:**

Well, here it is people! Ch. 2! Sorry about the wait. To be honest, the 1st ch. wasn't quite how I wanted it, but I'm glad that those who've read and reviewed enjoyed it. For some reason when I went to upload the edited version, it loaded the old one. Damn thing… There were some parts I had taken out and others that I added, so I'll probably upload the real copy later.

For the second chapter, I just wanted to mention a few things before you start reading and are like, 'This is the worst story I've laid eyes on!' To some, this may seem a bit fast moving, or even dragging in some parts. I apologize if you think it was a waste of your time. The reason I'm writing this story the way I am, is so that it may allow me to express the feelings I think the character would be experiencing.

To really understand the emotion I'm trying to relay in my writings, I would greatly appreciate it, and I think you would enjoy it more, if it was read slower. Do whatever you want, but this is supposed to be from the perspective of a teenage boy whose being abused, and feels isolated, while at the same time, feeling heart-broken. Sorry for lecturing, I swear on …ahh..Something valuable, that I won't do it again! Unless required, of course! Enjoy and review on your own free will. Hint-hint, makes the author update faster….

No flames needed, but they're always welcome, 'cause I love debating! Flames that are written without a return user name or return e-mail address will be mentioned if I feel obligated, but otherwise will be ignored. Highly ineffective so don't waste my time or yours, unless you're willing to argue the point. And if it's about homosexuals, or the pairing that I support, I shall laugh merrily at you while eating ridiculous amounts of chocolate! Smiles pleasantly.

**Rating has now risen to R for: descriptive details of different forms of abuse, language, slash, and others. There will be more in the future. Grins evilly ****Big thank-you's to all that reviewed! Hope you enjoy this!**

**Chapter 2: Painful Bliss**

**Sirius' POV**

There are many types of abuse.

Physical is one of the many that are inflicted upon individuals.

When you've been struck so many times your covered in blue-black bruises, covering your back and chest, arms and legs, though the face was never an exception. When you lay in a heap on a cold tile floor, unmoving, knocked unconscious while hours slip away. When your eyes first open, in slow motion almost, to the painful throb that pulses maliciously at the back of your head where skull met hard floor. Lifting trembling fingers to a knot the size of a large walnut, fear so deeply laced within your mind that you almost want to draw your hand back, afraid that you'll discover fingers covered in the warm burgundy colored substance that mats your hair.

The first intake of breath is sharp, like a thousand needles prickling away at your body, almost as if your lungs were impaled by a sharp, thin, but very effective knife, leaving you shaking uncontrollably. Choking till you gag, and the remains of your last eaten meal, no matter how old, is visible, while a stench makes itself know. Mouthfuls of blood coughed up, while at the same time slipping to the floor because you'd rather be on the floor, vulnerable, then to cause more pain in movement, just in the present moment.

I've experienced it. It's worse then any combination of words put together could ever explain. You know what it means and you can give the dictionaries definition but you'll never truly understand what physical abuse is until experienced. To be thrashed for nothing more then believing that people are all equal… Hit until knocked senseless.

Unconscious.

It's something that lives in your nightmares…and very few ever come to fully grasp the true meaning of the term physical abuse.

All details… from the beating I received as punishment for my latest 'sin', as my parents labeled it. From where I lay on the kitchen floor, I can see are clock chiming. One…two…three…four…? 4 a.m. I've been out for three hours. Usually, I make it a point of not leaving my room, even for dinner. Unfortunately, no matter how much I starve myself, I still am human, and require food. Around 12:30 I gave into the rather loud growls and painful stomach spasms. I sneaked down to get some toast and water…pretty light in my own opinion, so that my parents wouldn't notice I was prowling the house at night. Of course, my parents were out there in a heartbeat, demanding to know why the hell I was slamming things around at this time of night.

And thus ensued the following argument in which you already know the result of.

Bracing myself on hands and knees, I try to steady myself, though the floor is blurry and my head is swimming. Nausea doesn't take pity on any of us it would seem. Seeing as how I consumed nothing solid, I find myself choking on nothing but bile, water, and stomach acid. My hands search desperately for the top of the counter, anything, to pull my self-upright. The very thought of braving the staircase leading up to my bedroom nearly makes me want to fall limply back to the floor, at least until the painful throbbing in my head decreases.

But I also know that if I lay here any longer, I run the risk of waking to the same yelling and thrashing that I experienced before I lost consciousness.

My mother would smile gleefully at being presented with another opportunity to inflict more pain on her oldest son, especially it following such a short time after the last proceeding one.

I faintly remember crawling out of the kitchen that night, and loosing consciousness at some point while I try to make it up the seemingly endless staircase. When I awoke, I was lying in darkness upon my bed, my room door shut tightly.

Though I hardly speak to my brother anymore, he has proven to me before that he does not like to see me beaten repeatedly. I've spoken of it to him…and he says that I'm a dishonor to our family name, that no honorable Black was ever beaten. I smile bitterly at him, and tell him that I have no wish to be part of a family that only lives by pride and purity.

Regulus is the very essence of the Black title that my parents wished I were, yet…I believe that though there is hate between us…there is the unbreakable bond of brotherhood. He'd gladly beat me into the ground. He simply believes that beating until broken will not attain anything.

He's right.

I missed that morning's sunrise, so here I lie, unmoving on my burgundy quilt, trying to find a way to rid myself of thoughts of Remus, without having anything to reflect upon.

I seemingly drift between the state of ugly reality, and beautiful nightmares. Maybe I hit my head harder then I thought, because when I open my eyes, I see Remus and James starring worriedly down at me. Remus has his hand pressed to my forehead, his lips mouthing unheard words.

So softly that I simply gaze upon him with mild stupidity.

"You'll be alright Padfoot. You'll be alright."

I sigh, and lose consciousness.

To bad beautiful dreams don't exist…

Sexual.

One that I've luckily had no direct experience with. I've received my fair few insults of whore, and being asked if I enjoy being a sex toy to half-breeds and mud-bloods but I've only had to dish out a few punches in the past to silence such taunting. My parents on the other hand, unfortunately can't be silenced in the same way. Any reason to pitch objects at my head is fine with them. They once went as far to ask if I would be willing to marry into the Malfoy family.

I nearly vomited.

I've never laid one finger on any girl.

It's hard to when all you want to do is snog your '_male_' best friend senseless…

_Male…and quite beautiful best friend_…

My family is upheld by the strictest of morals, one of which means almost no contact with others. My brother is given warm smiles and the occasional pat on the back from our father. Nothing more. I can live without that anyway. I'd take it as an insult if they even tried to touch me with affection after everything they've said to me.

Verbal is the next on the list…

Probably the worst for me, considering the number of times I've been told I'm worthless…

If it's not screaming at me for being who I am in which you can't really help, then it's my friends, in which they know I'm incredibly protective of all of them…

Remus has of course been a sorer subject for me…

I fear her words more then her fist…

Bruises can heal…

Words, I've discovered, replay in your mind…

Until you think you've gone crazy.

_Screw-up…you fail at life…slaves have more honor then you…I don't…love you…we've never loved you…What's wrong with you!…_

Anything's better then imagining those very same words coming from the same mouth that he dreams about kissing, and drowning in every time he shuts his eyes in wishful thinking…

Mental.

My seventeenth birthday went unnoticed, not that I'm complaining. I'm lying in my room on an unmade bed, my covers thrown to the floor and tangled around my legs in a helpless heap. The window is up, and even though it is mid-afternoon, the sky is a dark gray, while a warm summer breeze sifts through, ruffling my bangs lightly. The soft sigh of thunder vibrates through the tinted crimson glass and the sweet scent of rainfall that has yet to appear wafts threw. The same angry rain clouds that cover the sky and my horizon, filled with the same ugly feelings, fitting my mood, or better yet, reflecting the stinging pains that seem laced deeply within the muscle of my heart.

_God! Why is it he is all I can think about!_

I close my eyes and he's there, smiling softly, his eyes glittering a warm gold-brown while lying next to the lake in the sun on a cool, spring afternoon. I breathe, and long for his sweet scent; the vanilla from his shampoo, but also the underlining scent of sweat from after we've finished rough housing. His own, very unique aroma that can only be found while standing particularly close to him or while lying on his bed.

A scent I crave to have on me.

Countless nights last year we spent together, just the two of us. Under a blanket of stars, or a duvet of midnight blue, with silver thread interwoven…

When warm summer nights like those come back to me, and I dream, I see those eyes. Eyes that say more then any amount of words could. I remember him lying in the uncut grass, under the old oak tree that lives by the lake. Fantasies are sometimes sweet. Bittersweet. I dream the waves run along the bank, lapping gently at the earth and warm mud there. I imagine him so clearly I sometimes mistake it for reality. He leans in close to me; his head tilted up just the smallest bit, his soft peach colored lips open a fraction. Those slightly feminine auburn eyelashes that feather gently against the high curve of cheekbones. I run my hand through my hair, frustrated with myself, only to find myself wishing that it were his tawny tresses that I had my fingers tangled in.

And then I remember the real reason behind my pain…

I betrayed him…

I sigh, aware that I haven't left my room for the last week. In the morning, I come out to meet the sunrise, relieve myself, because as all humans, wizards or muggles, we all require the use of a bathroom. Sadly. If not for that, I would stay in here forever, locked away.

"Remus. Remus J. Lupin."

And just as I mistily imagined, it sounds sweeter when spoken, though quite lovely when just thought. It rolls off my tongue, like it was always meant to be said everyday with my voice.

What of every hour?

Minute?

My voice cracks as I mutter wearily, "I'm in love. With my best friend."

Who's the fool? The rain is coming now…the moisture in the air is captivating.

Fur and fangs, my dear sweet friend… you're my moon and I your star…or at least I wish. Were both in need of finding some sort of truth in ourselves. Was this fate, Moony? Was it fate that made me step into that classroom that day? When I asked your name? When I looked into your eyes longer then would be deemed normal?

When, by the jealousy that possessed me, drove me to make that one fatal mistake…

"_Don't touch me…"_

I know I screwed up…

"_Remus! Please…Listen to me!"_

_"Stop it! Haven't you hurt me enough!"_

It's not like I can forget it either…

_"Moony-"_

_"Are you so incredibly self-absorbed to steal this from me too? If you have any feelings left of me, even hatred, then spare me by leaving me this. Do not rob me of my hate!"_

…Not when I keep hearing his voice, or seeing his pained face as he twisted away from me.

My mind is unsettled, my voice hoarse from no use, my body filled with the desire to touch the one who has no interest in me…

Light taps on the roof sound, and the leaves rustle gently outside my bedroom window as the rain pours down softly. I can see the road from where I lay, and how the water breaks on it. Light and slow at first, like a steady drumbeat…the soft beat of a heart at rest. It picks up within moments, becoming heavy and hard, mist forming to cover the sodden ground, the road quickly becoming invisible.

_'One month. One more month…_'

It would prove to be one of the longest and most drawn out periods of my life…

**Remus' POV**

I walk to the platform alone, my trunk being dragged behind me on the small trolley I had managed to get my hands on even among the mass amounts bodies grabbing for it. My owl hoots at me with annoyance as it bumps noisily along, and all I can do is make a soft shushing sound. I'm alone…again…

At the end of my sixth year, my closest friend showed me something…

…That trust, doesn't exist for people like me…

I approach the concrete wall, mild amusement twisting my lips as I see a small black-headed boy tell his mother he wouldn't run at seemingly solid brick wall. The younger woman looks frustrated and seems like she's ready to tell the boy off…

"Hey there. Need some help?" I ask politely as I approach the wall myself. The woman has pretty brown eyes…I don't like them.

"Oh! You must be an older student! See Jeremy, he'll show you what to do. Stop pouting, you'll have tons of fun!" The mother tries to say convincingly.

The boy's bottom lip puckers out, forming a very familiar expression to Remus. The boy is pouting.

Sirius Black used to do this to him when he wanted attention…it brings back fond memories when it worked…

_"Let's go on an adventure!"_

_Remus looked up at the gray-eyed god, sulking in all his glory against the carpeted floor of the Gryffinder Common room._

_"If you ask my opinion, your personality is adventurous enough for me…" the amber-eyed boys comments lazily from his comfortable position on the couch, a book leaning securely in the crook of his right arm. They were the only two still up…_

_"Well, I am quite a handful," Sirius states, smugly._

_"More like a pain in the ass…" Remus mutters dryly. The unsuspecting werewolf doesn't notice the dangerous glint in his friends' eye until it's too late. Within seconds, they're on the floor rolling around, wrestling, grunting as they playfully fight for dominance with one another. Sirius winds up on top, straddling his friends waist. He leans over his wheezing friend, smirking in delight at the feel of the other boys' warm body struggling against his own. _

_"Play with me?" He asks, somewhat to coyly, and if Remus didn't know better, he would almost say that there was lust contained somewhere secretly in those light gray eyes of silver ice._

_"No. Get off of me!" Moony wiggles, trying to break free._

_Suddenly the bear-like black dog is pinning him down, that free pink tongue darting quickly over his face and lips before snuffling his wet nose against Remus's neck._

_"Padfoot!" Remus shrieks quietly, pushing the grim away. Within seconds Padfoot's off, running for the portrait and corridors, with Remus running break-neck after him, silently laughing._

The woman is starring strangely at me.

"I'm sorry. Did you say something?" I mumble, suddenly aware that I dazed off again in memories.

She blinks at me… "No. Go on Jeremy."

Remus turns in time to see the boy sulkily walk towards the wall, disappearing right before their eyes.

"Ah well…sorry I wasn't much help." Remus offers as a simple apology to the stranger.

"Not at all. Thank-you anyway. Have a safe journey yourself young sir."

I nod to the woman, before disappearing as a crowd of teenagers walk by.

My gaze is downcast as I hand over my passport and drag my truck onto the train. The halls are full.

I unconsciously wince as first years bump into me, hitting my wounds from my last transformation, which was much worse then I expected. Having my friends there for me every moon for the last two years, has by all means, spoiled me. My alter ego was not pleased to find itself back home in the prison that was my residence for countless years before my acceptance at Hogwarts.

Now, by all means, I have no idea why we chose the last apartment on this forsaken train as 'the Marauders' apartment, but it's hell every year trying to get back there.

Some girls giggle as I pass, and I blush, aware that I have matured quite a bit over the summer, my body finally filling out a bit, making me appear more lean and muscled, like James and Sirius. Of course they have Quidditch to thank for their bodybuilding. I have painful transformations that I suffer through each and every month, burning all my body's extra resources for the change and the healing process, never allowing me to gain much weight. My muscles are hard and compact, with scars littering my body like a disease.

A body, that from a distance may appear attractive or beautiful clothed, though when stripped, looks like the monster that is contained within this shell. Funny how it reflects what's on the inside, I believe they would call it irony, though I do not laugh as though it were a joke. The best you can hope from me is a twisted smirk, usually making many feel uneasy.

I can't help but laugh.

A hollow and very empty laugh that is. Somehow, I feel as though I am not the only one this year who is hiding deeper secrets of pain, though.

Peter, envy perhaps? James's never ending conquest for Lily maybe? And Sirius. Now there's a mystery!

As I approach the misty glass door to our seats, I make out the bent form of my loudest and often most devious friend, slouched in his seat, elbows resting on his knees, palms pressed against eyes. It is a position of vulnerability and stress, one I am familiar with. Is he all right?

Should I even care?

Swallowing hard, my mind and inner wolf immediately flee to the back of my mind, the pain from seeing Sirius' face the morning after he took my darkest secret, the only thing that could ruin me, and exposing it to not just anyone, but to Snape.

The one person, who already didn't need a reason to hate me, had now been given one.

Can I find it in myself to forgive?

Without thinking about it further, I gulp in a choked breath, and reach shaking fingers out to grasp the bronze door handle.

I pull it open, and stare in awe as the black haired boy I knew last year jerks up, his gray eyes cold and withdrawn. He is no longer Padfoot, the boy who riddles my dreams with haunted gray eyes that follow me.

He is the essence of pain. My pain and his pain. My heart feels like it's in my throat, and he stares into my eyes, and before I know what I'm doing, I've stepped forward and reached out to him.


	3. Odd Moments And A Plan

**Hey people. I'm sorry. You can kill me if you like…after all, after reading the sixth book, there's really no reason to live…I want everyone to know that I am still a vivid supporter of S/R, no matter what J.K. Rowling writes. I'll leave an Author's note at the bottom, which may contain some spoilers of the 6th book, so please, if you haven't already read the book, don't read what I've written. **

**I apologize for the wait. I'm currently in a mental state that's on the 'hiatus.'**

**I also want everyone to know that I appreciate beyond words your reviews, especially those with helpful advice. I have no beta, and having been stuck in a writer's block for a while now, it's a miracle I'm writing at all.**

**Review at you own will. Either way, I'll eventually finish.**

**Chapter 3: Painful Bliss**

Remus' hand was extended, his long pianist-like fingers entwined with the soft black velvet of Sirius' cloak located at the shoulder. Wide, silver-gray eyes stared up at him; the owner seemingly becoming an ice sculpture in the instant recognition dawned in those fathomless eyes.

The violent shades of amber and cinnamon swirled together in a gentle melody, displaying pain and concern darkly contrasted when compared to the cold shock painted on his face.

Sirius came to his senses the fastest, his eyes quickly tracing Remus' build, searching for any visible wounds, only catching the white of bandages under his long sleeved shirt.

Garbed in his usual tasteful dark green and tan robes, his golden-brown hair now hung past the base of his neck, brushing his shoulders elegantly where he hadn't pulled it back in a low ponytail. His bangs now covered his smooth forehead, hanging like a curtain in front of those fiery eyes.

"Remus…?" Sirius murmured, his eyes locking back onto Moony's. Remus eyes widen, and within milliseconds, he yanked his hand back as though burned by some un-seeable silver object. Starring uncomfortably at each other, Remus slowly inched his way into the room, his back practically pressed to the glass door, out of Sirius' reach.

Taking the seat farthest from him, their gaze remained unbroken, each curiously and somewhat intensely observing the other. The door slid shut with a snap, and the train seemed to spasm and convulse as the engine roared to life. The rough vibration dimmed, the noise fading away and becoming part of the white noise of laughter and crying girls as they waved goodbye to parents.

Breaking the lasting eye contact, Remus finally looked out the window he was seated next to, his eyes falling on the mass of people, hundreds of faces, all nameless and meaningless. None of them would ever know him, or recognize the anonymous fact that he was the first werewolf to attend and graduate from Hogwarts.

They were all oblivious, and in that state, they would remain. Oblivious to the fact that their children had befriended one person considered even by the ministry to indeed be a monster.

He didn't bother searching for his parents either, knowing that they wouldn't be there even if they did care. All those people out there were pawns. All stuck in this game called life, where it doesn't matter who you are. We all lose in the end any way, don't we?

Though Remus had already fallen back into his routine from last semester, which consisted of acting as though Sirius Black didn't exist, he did not fail to notice that his 'former' friend continued to openly stare at him. Something about those eyes could make any person what to shiver…that uncomfortable itch that always settled in-between your shoulder blades present.

Yes, Sirius Black had a … well … strange effect on him to say the least. Those eyes, that misty silver, burned him as though they actually made out of the cursed metal.

It made him want to fidget, which to say the least, was 'not' a Remus trait.

Daring himself to look up and meet the unyielding gaze, he found himself instead starring at the floor.

'Pathetic…' He scolded himself silently, wishing that Peter or James; even one of Sirius' stupid Huffepuff admirers would pop in just to distract the steady, never-wavering stare.

The nervousness in his stomach suddenly made itself known, a wave of intense nausea sweeping through him, making his vision feel as though it had suddenly tripled.

It may have been if he hadn't shut his eyes, letting it pass.

Somehow…he knew it wouldn't be the first time he felt the 'butterflies' around Sirius Black.

-

The uncomfortable silence lasted ten more minutes, which to each of the teenage boys, felt like an eternity. But at last, their solitude was broken by the arrival of James Potter and Peter Pettigrew, the last two members of, 'The Marauders.'

James stopped curiously in the doorway, his face frozen between shock, and a strong urge to run fleeing from the compartment as he glanced nervously between the two of them, almost like a cornered mouse as he slid in. Peter was right behind him, also freezing momentarily in the doorway as he caught sight of who was occupying it.

"Moony, it's…ah…great to see you! How was your summer?" James tried, though it came out a standing octave higher then usual.

For a split second, Remus considered ignoring him, even though he knew it wasn't James fault. It wasn't James fault they had each in their own way, forgiven Sirius. Or that his parents were psychotic hysterics, raging between hot and cold in the war of wills, their only son caught between it. It wasn't James fault that he suddenly felt the biggest urge in the world to blush like a twelve year-old girl, because Padfoot's attention had returned to him.

"Could've been worse." His mouth seemed to fumble over it, as though he hadn't spoken much in the last few months, which was true, but it just hadn't occurred to him until he had attempted it.

James looked at him, concern filling those hazel eyes, peering through the slightly owlish glasses. "Your parents?" He murmured between his teeth, barely a whisper.

Remus looked away, out the window at the quickly darkening sky.

Life's fucked up.

Apparently he must of said that out loud, because suddenly, the usually proud, and daredevil monotone replied in a somewhat broken undertone, "Ain't that the truth."

And without meaning to, he looked up to meet the silver eyes, feeling the fastest flash of appreciation towards the other young man. Sirius, out of all of them, understood what he meant.

He couldn't stop starring.

He knew Remus knew he was starring.

And it just made him want to stare more.

It was almost like a sudden hunger. He couldn't touch him, or speak to him, or even run with him anymore at the full moon, but he could still watch him. And he did. The golden hair, softer, longer, fuller, just seemed to be begging to be touched and stroked, and despite his usual high attribution to control his urges around the other boy, he seriously thought he might loose it as the four of them clambered off the train, searching for an empty carriage.

James and Peter had started up a conversation about Quidditch, one he himself would have usually participated in.

Not now though, as he followed behind the marauders, watching as Remus' thin, and now strangely vulnerable form stood quietly apart from the rest.

Waiting of course.

He knew, that though he had forever changed their relationship as friends, Remus had in some ways, already forgiven him.

Wishful and folly thinking really.

The look of 'gratitude' and appreciation' earlier, as he made the simple response to Remus' own had showed him more. Remus was still very much a recluse, even though it was their sixth year now. This boy would not forgive until he was pushed, prodded, annoyed, exhausted, and completely and entirely at his wits end.

Remus Lupin, as he silently pulled himself up into a carriage, caught something that made his stomach tie in knots.

The ghost of that once very familiar smirk rose back to Sirius' face. Back in place, if not only for a mere instant.

The one he had watched his friend wear whenever he had thought up a very unique and if not downright dirty plot.

It meant Sirius Black was planning.

More so, that touching smile, though endearing, was directed at him…

What made Remus nervous was that the butterflies were back.

**Review!**

**Okay, now my rant!**

**First off, I apologies again for the wait! This story has become a thorn in my side. I love to write first POV, but I realized I couldn't really do much with scene description or even other characters thoughts, so I'm going to try to stick with the way this one was written.**

**Updates will come, eventually! Working two jobs, and in school, taking seven courses and then having like, I don't even know, ten people in my family and a pregnant irate sister, is to say at the very least, incredibly distracting.**

**Dwighty can back me up!**

**Secondly, about the sixth book. Note: There are spoilers!**

**The whole Remus and Tonks thing, like I've read everywhere, is totally without a base. I have absolutely nothing wrong with those who ship them, that's fine, but there were more then a few places where it hinted greatly at the fact that Remus has none, if nothing more then platonic feeling for are fiery, pink haired character.**

**Chapter sixteen killed me. The whole time I was reading it, with the song playing in the background, and the description of Remus sitting alone in front of the fireplace…and I quote...'_Meanwhile, Remus Lupin, who was thinner and more ragged-looking than ever, was sitting beside the fire, starring into its depths as though he could not hear Celestina's voice,' _implies that perhaps Remus is still grieving. Note that if Sirius died at the end of Harry's fifth year, and it is now Christmas, it's been about six months.**

**There's also the comment that Remus makes to Molly about Tonks, _'She's got her own family to go to, hasn't she?'_**

**Bored, uninterested, and uncaring. He drops the subject with little, if any concern for the other woman.**

**Molly's support for them, even at the end, was to put it bluntly, poorly implied in the beginning. You'll remember that Molly had wanted Tonks to date Bill.**

**McGonagall's support was also without much importance. She seemed to be simply commenting. Right before any of this, Molly had said, _'I've said all along you're taking a ridiculous line on this, Remus.'_**

**Yeah, real ridiculous. I'd come up with any excuse if I were gay.**

**"You see Tonks, I can't date you because I'm to old, to poor, to dangerous…oh yeah and to gay,"**

**"And I had roxy sex with your male cousin who's dead."**

**Period. Alright…I _imagined_ that was in there…**

**Another thing that I was displeased to find was Sirius' will. Do not remorse. If they were together, which they were I would have thought that they would've talked about it. If either of them died, it would have been a terrible burden to put on the other. Suspicion brought down because you were left a house or large sums of personal possessions would have been most unpleasant. I can see them making arrangements ahead of time.**

**And last but not least, the worst sign for us S/R shippers. **

**The funeral. The handholding. Tonks' pink hair… gag …Remus with someone with bright PINK hair…no, no this won't do at all. It was black hair, gray eyes, and a stars name to keep the moon company.**

**I take it as a gesture of friendship. If not, maybe Tonks wore Remus down enough so that he would stand by her… I don't know…doesn't have to mean anything more then friends.**

**Around this time, it's about a year after Sirius' death. Remus is single again, and there's no reason why he would have to stay that way. J.K. Rowling could have put this in the fifth book to destroy any chance of them ever being together. Note she put it at a time when Remus would need comfort and would perhaps be willing to start a relationship again. Either way, I'm going to read the seventh book, laugh at the dumb jokes, cry at the right scenes, and be upset at the opportune moments.**

**Either way, Sirius and Remus went through everything together, were compatible in a way Tonks could never be, and was absent when Remus' pack was made. **

**As a final note, I've read from many accomplished writers that they _create_ the characters. As soon as they start writing, those characters _become their own person_. They come to life and start shaping a personality and will. Somewhere, Sirius and Remus are probably laughing their heads off at J.K. and Tonks.**

**Toodles.**


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